


Terok Noir

by Zelma



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Occupation Era, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelma/pseuds/Zelma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Noir style mystery, starring occupation-era Odo, as written by Jake Sisko.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mysterious Case of Tora Naprem

**Author's Note:**

> The "now" parts take place around season 4, when Ziyal is on the station.

The year was 2353, and the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor had been going on for as long as anyone could remember.  I'd known nothing but Cardassian rule, and though I am not a Bajoran myself, I’d always wished to see what that peaceful culture had been like before.

 

I had been discovered and raised in tempestuous times.

This was never my place - the suffering of this small planet and her violent oppressors - but as I had been discovered by a Cardassian soldier, and placed in the clumsy care of Bajoran researchers, this planet's problems became my own.  I had been just a small, mysterious sample of sentient goo.  An unknown liquid that the researchers learned could change its shape at will long before they learned I was a person.

 

The Cardassians didn't know what to do with me once they realized I was a sentient being.  They found me fascinating, entertaining, even.  But it took a long time for them to find me useful.

 

I'll not bore you with the details of my sudden assignment, but when I made it up to Terok Nor, it didn't take long until I found myself - unexpected, unprepared - head of station security. I was woefully unqualified for the position, but with very little time to adjust, I was able to settle in and assume the shape of the best Security Officer I could.  No one - not even I - quite knew _what_ I was, but I was clearly an adaptive creature by nature, and I suited the job, even if it didn’t suit me.

 

The Bajorans didn't _entirely_ hate me because I was not a Cardassian. And the Cardassians liked me because I wasn't actually a Bajoran but still made it look like they were making a magnanimous effort towards unbiased justice on the station.

 

The station.

Terok Nor.

A metal claw floating sentinel - watching, aloof.  The station served as a center for trade, and a slave labor camp for the processing of ore mined on the surface of Bajor.  But its most consistent function was as  a constant reminder of the subjugation of the defenseless bubble of a planet below.  To the bodies of the Bajoran workers, Terok Nor was kept intolerably hot for the comfort of its cold-blooded Cardassian owners.  It was poorly lit, hazy, and smelled like dead voles.

 

The families of Bajoran resistance fighters often ended up here, even if they had done nothing wrong.  It was a better place to end up than the mines, or the camps, but not by much.  Here, an enterprising Bajoran might make good by working with their oppressors - provided he or she could live with themselves afterwards.

 

It was my job to watch over the inhabitants of this station - Cardassian guards, soldiers and diplomats. Bajoran laborers, and over-seers.  And traders and shop-owners of every other race and description.  It was my job to make sure that all these disparate individuals obeyed the law and received fair and equal treatment.

 

I always managed to avoid becoming personally involved, letting truth and justice act as my solid walls of defense against the heavier moral quandaries of working for Bajor’s oppressors.  I could keep myself separate.  I wasn’t one of them after all.  And though I hated this place, I helped it run smoothly.  And I could live with myself.  That is until _she_ walked through my door.

 

————

 

"Why'dja stop there?  You were just getting to the good part!”

Odo put the PADD down. “Jake.” he growled, “Why did you write a story about me?"

"It's just practice!  I'm trying out different writing styles.  And I figured a Noir style murder mystery would be a great one to try out."  Jake reached out to take back his unfinished story, but Odo placed a commanding hand on the tablet.

"That's nice.  But why did you write a story about _me?_ "

" Because you make a great hero for a detective story…”

“…In _first person_ no less…”

“… mysterious past.  Gravelly wit."

"'Gravelly wit.'"

"Yeah!  Not only that but think about it: Torok Nor, _Noir -_ Nor?  I mean that's just too good to pass up!  I can't believe no one's thought of it before!

Odo smiled, "probably because they consider writing murder mysteries set during an occupation that ended less than 10 years ago a bit... _too soon_.  In poor taste.  Don't you think, Mr. Sisko?”

Jake straightened up, "oh no!  I mean.  Yeah that’s pretty bad.  But I'm not going to try to publish it!  It really is just practice!  No one's going to even read it!  I just wanted _you_ to read it because, well, it's your story."

Odo suddenly looked very tired, "But none of this even happened.  I wasn't even on the station in 2353."

"No but,"  Jake looked down at his hands before fixing Odo with a full smile, "you're still the hero!  Don't you want to read the rest?"

Odo sighed, silently cursing Jake Sisko and his infectious enthusiasm, "Alright.  I'll read the rest of what you have here. But no guarantees on future installments."

 

—————

 

In those days you had to pick your battles, and I had a talent for choosing wisely.  I had to decide when to crack down on illegal trade, and when to look the other way.  I had to learn when the punishment of a Bajoran ore worker could save his or her life, and when kindness could leave them worse off than before.  I was good at making these judgments, and even though I couldn't end the occupation on my own, I could at least liquefy at night knowing I had not caused anyone any undue suffering.

Maybe I was too complacent.  A little too pleased with myself and my good judgment.  I thought I knew the lay of the land, and how to navigate these halls - how to get my job done without stepping on any important toes.

I should have known she was trouble the minute she walked in.  I should have known she wouldn't tell me the whole truth.  I should have told her to take her problems somewhere else.  Go bother the bartender and let me do my job.    I should have but I didn't.  In my pride I thought I could help anyone, and for my trouble, two people died, and the lives of another two were ruined forever.

I go over that day in my head even now.  What I should have said, what she might have done if I'd turned her away.  And for all my regrets, I don't actually know if her situation could have been demonstrably improved  without my clumsy help.

 

It had been just another day.  There I was sitting in my clammy, dimly lit office, trying to word a report in a way that might spare it's subject a heavy punishment.  I was also expecting an uninvited visit from the unscrupulous Ferengi bar owner.  He had every reason to complain after what I'd done the night before, and I was quietly looking forward to gloating in his face about his lost profits.

I’d just settled on a vague description that implied the worker suffered from a serious but easily cured illness when the door opened behind me.  I smiled.

"Here to gripe, I suppose," I didn't swivel my chair around to look at my visitor, "you and I both know, that if I let you get away with _everything_ it would upset the delicate balance of the station"

"I haven't done anything." The delicate, feminine voice caught me off-guard.  I swiveled my chair around and jolted to my feet at the sight of the Bajoran woman in my doorway.

"Tora Naprem!  I apologize!"

She smiled warmly, "you can relax.  Please." I nodded but could suddenly didn't know what to do with my hands.  She turned to her Cardassian bodyguard. "I'd like to speak to the chief of security alone, please." she commanded.  The security guard hesitated a moment then nodded her head and stepped outside.  The door slid shut behind her and left the two of us in my suddenly too quiet office.

She smiled again, sunlight from a time I’d never seen.  She looked healthy, well-fed and clean.  Her light brown hair was shiny, and her smile easily reached her liquidy hazel eyes.

In peace time she might not have been considered especially beautiful.  A flower in a field is hardly worth a second glance.  But here, amidst the gloom of the station, she really was remarkable.  As if a flower had sprouted from the metal seams of Terok Nor itself.  

I'd seen her before - only often enough to know who she was.  She was kept away from the rabble when she was even on the station, and she never seemed to avert her gaze from the ground before her.  She was the property of the man in charge - Prefect Dukat - and everyone knew it.

Even thinking of her in these terms was dangerous, but she was beautiful.

"Hello, Odo'ital.  May I sit down?"

She spoke the Cardassian word that served as my name with a peculiarly authentic accent.  I gestured the the chair across from me, and didn't sit until she did.  "Thank you.  How are you today, Odo'ital - ah - is there something else you like to be called?"

"Just 'Odo' is fine"

"Odo, then.  Odo'ital seems a cruel thing to call a man."

"You speak Cardassi."

"I'm trying to learn." she allowed a private smile, and looked down at her modestly folded hands, "It's difficult, but I'm very lucky to have a good teacher.

"Yes." I said.  Excellent segue, "Speaking of Prefect Dukat.   Does he know that you're here?"

"Of course!  I told him that a piece of jewelry of sentimental importance - a bracelet - has disappeared.  Possibly stolen."

"Alright -" I reached for the appropriate form only to look up and see a silver bracelet on the desk before me. "ah.  Well.  The Prefect will be pleased that you've already located it.  Is there anything else I can help you with now that you're here?"

"How are you at keeping secrets, Odo?" Her eyes were wide.  Ernest.

I smirked.  If this was a loaded question, this dame was not going to pin me. "I'm sure I could keep a secret quite well... _if_ I ever had a reason to."

She nodded once, as though acknowledging the necessity of my veiled answer, and bit her lip, bracing herself for a confession,  "I lied to the Prefect." she touched her mouth and looked away, "I don't make a habit of it, but given the circumstances I saw no way around it.  I need you to help me, and I need an _excuse_ " she touched the bracelet, "to check on your progress.  Odo, I'm in trouble."

"The sort of trouble that the Prefect can't help you with?"  her place as the consort of the head of the occupation, had granted this woman a level of comfort and luxury that frankly made my gelatinous insides churn.   She had enjoyed more privileges than almost any Bajoran I had heard of. And all with the minimal pangs of conscience.   After all, though she undoubtedly benefitted from the murder of innocents, _she_ wasn't directly responsible.  I tried to keep my disdain for the woman out of my voice.  My position was far more tenuous than hers if one believed the rumors of Prefect Dukat's extreme attachment to her.  "I would think he would keep you very well protected." I said.

She shook her head, "I can't let him get involved.  It could be dangerous for him."

And we wouldn't want Dukat to be in danger, now would we?  I suppressed a snort at the thought.  "Well.  What's the matter then?  What can you tell me that you can't tell your... Prefect."

She took a deep breath and met my eyes. For all her sweetness, I suddenly saw an intensity that caught me off guard.  "Someone is trying to kill me." she said, her voice pitched low and steady, "And at this rate, they're going to succeed."

I sat up a bit straighter and held her gaze.  "alright.  That _is_ a problem."

She pursed her lips and looked back down and fiddled with her skirt, "As you know I haven't been on the station for some time." her voice was light again, "I've been alone - well, alone with some security - in my house on Bajor for a few months.  The Prefect took a short vacation with me - 2 weeks, and the two of us - well, the two of us and security - came back to the station 1 week ago.  Our two weeks on Bajor were perfectly idyllic.  There were no attempts on my life until almost immediately upon arrival here."

I reached for the correct Padd, "can you describe what you perceive to have been the first attempt on your life?"

She fisted her hands in the fabric of her skirt, "Only if you put that away.  You can't write any of this down." 

She was scared, that's for sure.  Someone had a tight grip on her and it wasn't just Dukat. "Alright." I put down the padd and folded my hands conspicuously before me, "describe to me what you perceive to have been the first attempt on your life." 

"Almost immediately upon arrival to the station!  When I got back to our quarters, after settling in and re-familiarizing myself with the place, I went to order some sem’hal stew from the replicator.  The recipe almost always contains  Cardassian rik-nuts, but I've asked that any replicator I use have the rik-nuts removed in any and all recipes that usually contain them - I'm deathly allergic to them."

"I can see where this is going."

"Luckily I noticed the consistency of the sauce was all wrong before I ate any of it.  I was alone, so one bite of that probably would have killed me."

"Attempt number one: poisoning."

“They chose a method that was easily detected, but clearly tailored to me, specifically, and it would have looked like an accident.  So that tells me it was thought out, but a bit desperate.  The Prefect had the replicator fixed and had a good chuckle at my delicate Bajoran digestive system."

"and the next attempt?  I assume there was more than that one?"

"yes.  The next one was the next day.  I was alone in my own quarters.  The ones next to the Prefect’s  it’s a separate entrance entirely so I know it couldn’t have been for him.”

“Go on.”

“I think I was just reading a book when I heard the door chime.  I wasn’t expecting anyone so instead of just telling them to come in I asked - in Kardasi - who it was.  They answered in Kardasi, and said it was a delivery but something about their voice didn’t seem right.  So I asked who it was from and I received no answer.  I told the computer to show me the outside of my quarters, but there was no one there, and no delivery.”

“Perhaps they really did have a delivery to make, and realized they had the wrong quarters when they heard your voice.”

“I’m not finished. I told the computer to scan the hall and there was no one there.  There’s usually a Cardassian soldier somewhere in the hall but there was no one there.”

“I see.”

“The replacement arrived a few minutes later.  Some sort of scheduling mixup.  The night guard had left a few minutes early, and the morning guard had arrived a few minutes late.”

“The delivery alone, and the missing soldier alone would not have been cause for alarm, but together… you’re smart to be worried, and you did the right thing in coming to me.”

“The next time was a week later.  I was getting onto a turbo-lift.  Just as the doors were closing, I remembered I’d left something in my room and rushed out to get it.  A moment later, I heard a terrible crash.  The turbo-lift I had been on had been sabotaged, and if I had been on it at the time…”

I remembered hearing about that malfunctioning turbo-lift a few days ago, “Sabotage.  Hmmm.”

“So do you think you can help me?

“I think so.  But I need a bit more information.”

“Like what?  What can I tell you that you don’t already know?”

“A great deal.  For example: Why would someone want you dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“No?  No enemies, no accidentally overheard secrets?  No secrets of your own?”

For a moment she looked ill, but it might have been the reflection of the green panel of lights behind me.  “None.”

“Did you recognize the voice?  Could you recognize it if you heard it again?”

“All he said was ‘delivery.’”

“Ah!  So it was a male voice.  See?  That’s a start.  Did he have an accent?  Was his voice low or high?”

“I don’t know!  It was just one word!  He could have been manipulating his voice!  Or it could have been a recording!” 

Reflexively she reached for her earring.  It was slightly more elaborate than most, with a thin chain dangling from the round stud at the bottom.  I had assumed this small extravagance was a gift from Dukat.  I was wrong.  But what really stood out was that something here didn’t quite add up, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I tried to calm her down, “Look, Tora, I’m trying to help you.  You don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to, but it would be extremely helpful if you did.  Helpful to catching this person… or people that are trying to hurt you.  So please.  I’d appreciate the full truth, to the extent of your knowledge.”

She fixed me with a steady, helpless gaze, “Truthfully.  That’s all I know.  Someone wants me dead, and they have the skills to make it happen.”

I searched her eyes for even a glimpse of duplicity, but if it was there, it was so buried under genuine fear and desperation that I found nothing.

“Please.” she continued, “I’m only on this station for two more days.  The day after tomorrow I go back to Bajor, where I should be safe, but I might not make it two more days without someone to help me.” 

The buzz-hum of machinery around us seemed louder in the lull of speech.  She waited.

“Alright.” I said, taking the bracelet from my desk, “I’ll take the case.”


	2. The Ferengi's tale, and The Unexpected Significance of the Earring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the hazy halls of Terok Nor, a plot is afoot. Can Odo get the information he needs from an unsavory bartender, or will he be led astray? The mystery deepens, and a woman's life is on the line...
> 
> Meanwhile on DS9, Odo is annoyed that this story is still happening.

It had been a week since Odo had read “Chapter 1” of Jake’s misguided noir story, and he honestly hadn’t thought of it very much in that time.  He considered the whole thing ridiculous and didn’t plan on ever reading the rest of it or even asking about it.

He had been catching up on some paperwork when he happened to look up and notice as Jadzia Dax walked briskly past his office, stopped abruptly and - with a studied nonchalance sauntered back into his line of vision.  She looked at the office  as though she had just noticed it was there and waved through the glass doors to get Odo’s attention.

He waved back, and she entered the office.

“Hello, Odo!”

Odo pretended not to have noticed the whole chain of events, and greeted her with a smile.  “Hello, Lieutenant.  Can I help you. 

“Oh no.  Everything’s fine.  I was just passing by and I thought I’d stop by and say hello.  So. Hello.”

“Hello.”

Dax smiled widely and Odo glanced around the room, looking for something to talk about, or any reason why she might be there.  Finding nothing, he said, “was that all?”

“Oh! no. Well, Yes.  I was just thinking about how little I know about you.” Odo blinked.  Well that was a sudden and serious change of subject.  Dax continued,  “I mean we’ve technically known each other for a few years, but we’ve never _really_ spoken to each other.  You know?  And then I was thinking about what I _do_ know about you, and how interesting your life has been, and I realized I could learn so much from you, but I’ve never bothered asked you about your life.”

“And all of a sudden you want to know about my past?” Where had that come from? “I’ve never mentioned it before.  You know, I don’t really like talking about -“  Odo’s shoulders slumped as realization dawned, “You read the story.”

Lieutenant Dax’s eyes widened in a perfect imitation of innocence, “Story?”

“Jake’s story.  ‘Terok _Noir.’_ You read it, didn’t you?”

“Well.  Yes.  Yes I did.”

“How?  Jake promised me he was only going to share the story with me.  Why would he -“

“Oh, don’t blame Jake,” she said quickly, “if you’re angry about it, blame me.  I saw him working on it, and kind of bullied him into showing me what he was working on.”

“You bullied him.”

“ _Kind_ of.  He didn’t take much convincing.  He’s pretty proud of this story.”

“Wonderful.”

“Look, I understand how you might find this embarrassing, but you should be flattered.  He’s made you into quite the hero,”

“Oh, thank you for letting me know how I _should_ feel about the fictional invasion of my privacy.” Odo said, trying not to let his piqued interest show, “a hero, eh?”

“ _Quite_ the hero.”

“Hmmph.  Goodness knows what inspired him to write such a story in the first place.”

Dax frowned, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Hardly.  I’m no hero.  And it’s quite a stretch to make me one in a story.”

Dax let out a shout of laughter, “sorry to dash your expectations, but I think it has very little to do with you.”

“What then?”

“Who.”

“Who?”

Dax finally took a seat in the chair across from Odo’s desk.  Which was a relief because he was started to get uncomfortable with her towering over him. She crossed her arms, “It’s Ziyal.”

“Ziyal?”

“Yes.  It’s pretty clear that he’s fascinated with her.  But he’s a smart kid, and he’s loyal to his dad, and he knows that pursuing her in real life would be a terrible, _terrible_ idea.”

“So he’s writing about her mother?  He’s writing about her mother _suffering_ terribly?”

“It’s the closest thing he can have to getting to know her better.  It’s kind of romantic and star-crossed if you think of it that way.”

“That’s ridiculous.  They’ve never even spoken, as far as I know.  What makes you think -”

“Odo, it’s been a long time since I was an 18 year old boy, but I remember what it’s like.  If Jake doesn’t harbor at least _some_ secret fascination with Ziyal - a beautiful young woman displaced, the daughter of his father’s sworn enemy - I’ll eat my commbadge.”

Odo shook his head, but it did make sense.  A creative person like Jake Sisko would find at least the impossibility of Ziyal fascinating and romantic, even if it wasn’t very flattering to the girl’s independent agency.

“Jake’s a romantic!” Dax finished, “They don’t call him three-quadrants Sisko for nothing.”

“They don’t call him three-quadrants Sisko at all.”

“Oh yeah?” she smirked, “Just ask the Dabo girls.”

“Hmmm.  I’ll take your word for it.” He really didn’t need to know details about the romantic prowess of his commanding officer’s son.  It just wasn’t relevant information to his job.

“So!” Dax interrupted his thoughts, “how far did you get into the story?”

“I just got to the part where I - where _Odo -_ takes the case.  That’s as far as Jake was when he showed it to me.”

“Oooh, you have to keep reading.  Here:”  And she presented a PADD with the rest of the story, “You can borrow that.  Jake’s still not finished, but that’s the rest of what he has.”  Odo hesitated, wondering why she’d kept it on her person all this time.  What was this?  Had she been planning this?  He took the PADD.

“Thank you.  I think I will read the rest.”  

 

 

—————

 

So someone wanted this woman dead.

And at any given time Terok Nor hosted a shifting cast of some 800 aliens.  Everyone was potentially a suspect.  For the sake of my own sanity I tried to narrow down the field.

Comfort women were not well liked to be sure.  But they were generally regarded as entirely harmless.  True, she was the mistress to a powerful man, but it didn’t follow that hurting her would hurt him.  For all his rumored fondness for the woman, he had had other mistresses, and probably would have others still.  She was just one in an ever changing procession of pretty Bajoran faces.

All I really had to go on was a tampered replicator, and turbo lift, and an attempted delivery of… something.  Ah, and the alteration of the Cardassian guard schedule.  There was the more substantial clue.  At this point any Bajoran could sabotage a piece of Cardassian technology like a replicator, or turbo-lift and it went without saying that a Cardassian could do the same.  But not just anyone could alter a Cardassian military code.  Which is how the guards on this station received every one of their orders.  From assignment updates to review notices, anything communicated to military personnel went through the military computers, and therefore used complex and shifting Cardassian military computer coding. Everything.  Including the mundane schedule of their duties.

So I was looking either for a skilled Bajoran hacker, or a Rogue Cardassian soldier.  Who also wanted Naprem dead. She clearly was keeping some major piece information from me.  I didn’t even know whose side she was on.  So I couldn’t know which side wanted to kill her.

There was one person I could turn to at a time like this.  A man who heard everything, and would tell you everything - for the right price.  A man so devious and slippery that a Bolian swamp worm was sandpaper in comparison.  The very man whose black market enterprises I had thwarted two evenings before.

 

I didn’t enjoy working with Quark, but he was necessary.  Like any other bottom-feeder or carrion bird.

Quark’s Bar was the same as the rest of Terok Nor: a little too hot, a little too dark, and filled with Cardassians - when the bar had any patrons at all.  Despite the the establishment’s status as the only bar on the station, and the Cardassian reputation as a people who enjoyed a good drink - Quark’s rarely, _barely_ turned any profit at all.  As the occupation dragged on, fewer and fewer patrons ever darkened Quarks doors.  Preferring instead to drown their sorrows in private. And the fewer patrons he had, the more Quark had to rely on _other_ enterprises to keep the bar wet, and the pure-liquid latinum flowing.  His open, genial manner hid the heart of a shrewd and expert black-marketeer.  

“Odo! What a pleasure to see you - as usual.  What brings you into my humble establishment? I should warn you.  We’re busy today”  I glanced around at the hazy bar. A Cardassian soldier sat alone in a corner with a bottle of Kanar.  A Ferengi waiter leaned against the bar scratching his ear and waiting for something to do.  The emptiness made the place seem cavernous.

“Of course it is.”

Quark laughed at my transparent attempt at condescension.  “So.” he said, “anything  you’d like to discuss in particular, my friend -”

“I’m not your friend.”

“or just the usual bi-monthly shakedown for information?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve been putting your ears to use recently.”

“In what way?”

“A young Bajoran woman came to me yesterday seeking help.  She fears for her life.”

Quark smirked, “A young Bajoran fears for her life on Terok Nor.  Well.  Isn’t she lucky you’re on the case.”

“Not just any Bajoran woman - Tora Naprem.  I wondered if you might have heard anything that could help me in the case.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Anything about a plot on her life?  Have you heard anything about her?  Met her?”

"The Prefect's girl?  Yeah I've seen her around.  Never met her, though.  All I know is she's a fine specimen of a female.”  I turned my lip at his inflection of the word ‘female.’

“Hmph. I didn't notice.”

"Oh really?”  Quark leered, “Well maybe she's not your type. I did see a nice puddle over there - might be more your speed” 

"Funny.  so you don’t know anything?”

“I don’t anything.”

“Ok Quark.  Nothing this big happens without you hearing at least a whisper of it.  You tell me what you’ve heard, and I’ll even overlook a certain Ferengi transporter due to depart in two days.”

His shoulders tensed, “You know about that cargo?” I tilted my head and waited for him to dig his own grave, “but if you know about that then why are you even -”

“No.  I don’t about the cargo.  And it can stay that way if you tell me what I want to know.”

Quark’s shoulders relaxed again and he leaned easily on the bar, again in total control, “I can’t.  Like I said: I never talked to the girl.  _No one_ ever talks to her.  Or about her.  It's like an unwritten rule.  A rule that - I might add - we are breaking right now.”  He pushed away from the bar and turned to tend to his meager wares, “Is that all?"

"Are you in a rush to be rid of me?” I said in mock hurt.

"Me? Not at all.  I just don't have anything worth sharing.  _I_ don't want you to go, but I really wouldn't want to waste _your_ precious time."

“ _Oh_.  That's awfully kind of you to say, Quark.  Actually, I have nowhere to be at the moment." I took a seat at the bar, "why don't I keep you company.  I'll have a Tarkalean tea."

"What? But you don't drink!  I thought you couldn’t.”

"True, but I might enjoy watching the steam curl out of the mug as we continue our chat."

"Ah, well.  I have other customers to tend to.  I can't let you take up all my attention.  Much as I'd _love_ to chat."

"That's quite alright Quark. We both know that you have your ears open wide for opportunity at all times.  Now I'm sure that one or two other fascinating tidbits must have fallen in as well.  Whenever you remember, and whenever you do have a moment to continue our conversation I'll be here.  Waiting."  Quark ground his teeth and slammed my tea on the bar in front of me. “Ah.  Thank you.”

An hour passed in which Quark made himself busy behind the bar, cleaning glasses and intermittently glaring at me and the door, “Whenever you remember something worth sharing, just let me know.” I said sweetly.

"Oh look.  Your tea's gone cold.  Isn't it time for you to be heading out now?"

"Oh no.  I think I can sit here for awhile longer.  I'll take a fresh tea, please.  The steam is awfully soothing to watch."

"Of course.” Quark’s smile looked physically painful at this point.

Another hour passed.  This time Quark simply leaned against the racks and glared at me.  For my part I smiled steadily and watched the steam rise in languid curls from my cup.  Finally Quark couldn’t take anymore.

"Alright Odo,” he slammed his ands on either side of my tea, “what is this?"

"What is what?  Oh!  I'm so sorry.  Am I _keeping_ you from something?"

He clenched his teeth "No."

"What have you _heard, Quark?"_

"I haven't heard a thing on the subject!"

“Are you sure about that?  because I have all day, and I know you're waiting for an illegal shipment of self-sealing stem bolts now.  I could go back to my office and see nothing, or I could stay here as your contact - a known convict - strolls through those doors.  Which is it going to be, Quark?  Your profit?  Or the information I want?"

"Look, Odo, no profit is worth my neck.”

“True.  But if anyone can wriggle their way out of an uncomfortable situation, it’s you.”

“Thank you.” Quark said through gritted teeth.

“In fact, the intrigue, the espionage, the covert dealings in the black market.  Sometimes I think you are the only person on Terok Nor that really has found his home.”

Quark laughed uproariously at that, “You think I like being stuck on this floating hunk of twisted metal?  Odo.  You need to find a new calling if that’s what you’ve deduced about me.”

I folded my arms and smiled “What time were you expecting your friend, Quark?”

"Alright alright!” Quark sighed through his teeth in grudging resignation, “I've heard some Cardassian military types grousing about Dukat recently.  They say he’s not responding to the Bajoran uprising as harshly as he could.” he said quickly.

“What does this have to do with Tora Naprem?”

“I’m getting there!”  He pursed his lips and glared at the lone Cardassian in the corner, perhaps willing him to pass out in a drunken stupor and not overhear, “Alright.  So you know how the Tora woman is not Dukat’s usual type?”

I hadn’t thought about it before, but now that Quark pointed it out, I had to admit it was true.  While she definitely fit into his disturbing fetish for Bajoran women, her race was the only physical similarity to his previous string of lovers.  She was small, where the others had been statuesque, soft where the others had been angular and lithe, light featured rather than dark.  Still, wherever this was going, it seemed a small reason on which to base _any_ sort of conclusion.

“Men’s tastes change.” I said.

“Maybe.” Quark said quietly, “But since they’ve been together, successful Bajoran attacks on major Cardassian posts on Bajor have increased 20%”

“So?  Revolutions escalate.  The resistance fighters have learned the Cardassians’ vulnerabilities.  It’s a coincidence.”

“Maybe.  But they think that she’s a revolutionary fighter in disguise who managed to manipulate her way into his bed in order to gather intelligence using her - you know - feminine wiles.”

“Feminine.  Wiles.” I said, Quark nodded as though he’d heard crazier theories.  I scoffed, “Drunken ramblings!  Because she’s a little short?  Not nearly enough of a reason to try to murder someone.”

“Well _we_ know.  But haven’t you seen people executed for less?”  I looked down at my tea and swished the now-cold liquid around the walls of the mug.  I couldn’t deny what Quark was saying.  Absurd as it was.  He wasn’t finished, “But it makes sense doesn’t it?  If the Cardassians _do_ want her dead, they wouldn’t bring her up on charges and have her officially executed - Dukat is completely taken with her.  He’s their leader and if it gets out that _he’s_ been duped by a pair of pretty eyes.  Well.  That could give the resistance the moral boost it needs.  That kind of risk she’s taken?  That kind of guts?  It could turn her into a martyr.  No.  Better to kill her quietly - better yet make it look like an accident!  That way Dukat never has to know that they distrusted his judgment, and the Bajorans at large just think ‘eh, another collaborator.’”

“The Cardassians really think she’s that much of threat?”

“Maybe.  The military types sure do.  A 20% increase is no small thing.”

I stood abruptly, no longer able to contain my distaste, “They’ll cling to any explanation for why these ‘primitive’ people are able to outsmart them, won’t they?  No matter how transparently _stupid_.” I spat out.  Quark looked over my shoulder and pursed his mouth over his sharp teeth.

“Odo.  Please shut up.”

Before I could look behind me to see what had him spooked, the lone Cardassian from the corner sat heavily on the bar stool next to my recently vacated one.  Quark instantly turned on the charm. “Ah!  Damar.  Another?  Or are you going to finally pay your bill?”

“Another.” 

Quark reached for the bottle, “Well Odo,” he said as he poured another glass of the syrupy kanar, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance.  But I really know nothing about any illegal shipments of self-sealing stem bolts”  Damn him.  The very shipment I had agreed to ignore today.  I glared, and he just smiled wider, “So sorry.  Maybe next time I  can be of more help.”

“Yes.  Next time.  If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll let you get back to your business, and be going.”  I turned to leave but the Cardassian soldier clasped a firm hand on my elbow. I looked at his hand, then at him, “yes?”

“You’re not a Bojoran, Shapeshifter.”  He spoke with exaggerated clarity, as though compensating for his drunkenness.

“True.”

“But you’re not a Cardassian either.”

“Also true.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how you got your job.  But you should know that _some of us_ are _watching you._   If you slip up.  Or forget who you’re working for.  We’ll notice.”

I narrowed the crook of my elbow and slipped out of his grip.  “Thank you.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

The Cardassian scoffed into his drink and muttered, “Odo’ital.” just loud enough for me to hear.

As I took my leave, Quark laughed behind me in that way that always made me wonder if he saw me as a friend, a threat, or a joke.

I walked back to my office.  Quark’s theory had certainly given me a lot to think about.  It even explained what had the lady so spooked.  But I didn’t quite buy that the Cardassians wouldn’t just bring her up on charges if they were suspicious - Dukat’s “love” notwithstanding.  Observation had taught me that the Prefect’s affection went only as far as one’s loyalty.  And if she _was_ a revolutionary, Dukat would use the opportunity to make her an example.  As a way to say that not even Love would stop him from punishment where punishment was due.

 

I had no sooner crossed into my office when suddenly I heard a commotion on the Promenade.  A shout, a cry, phaser fire.  I ran.  When I arrived on the scene there was crowd already gathered.  A man was dead on the ground, a Cardassian soldier was re-holstering her phaser, and a Bajoran woman sat huddled silently on the ground, a hand held protectively to her right ear.  It was Tora Naprem.  I pointed to a random Bajoran worker from the crowd,

"You, do you know any of these people?"

"No!" He held a pack tight to his chest, "I just arrived here today.  I haven't even been assigned a position yet!"

"Did you see what happened?"

"I - I saw the whole thing."  He was shaking.

"Stay right here.  I'm going to take a statement," I turned to the rest of the crowd, "Alright everyone!  Get back to what you were doing.  I'll take care of this from here."

The crowd dispersed leaving me with the dead man, the scared man, the Cardassian soldier, and the quietly shaking Tora Naprem.

"Tora." I said, "lets get you off the Promenade."  I gently put my other hand on her shoulder.  She flinched away like she'd been struck and curled tighter into herself; her other hand joined its partner in cradling her ear.  It was then that I noticed blood leaking between her fingers.

"Go fetch a dermal regenerator." I told one of my deputies.  He nodded and hurried off.

I turned to the now violently shaking man, "What happened?"

"I don't know!"

"You said you saw the whole thing!"

"I did!  By the Prophets I did, but it happened so fast I just - oh!" he turned a shade paler, "She's bleeding!"

"Yes.  I know.  I've already sent for a dermal regenerator." I put a hand on his thin shoulder, already regretting my choice of witness, "Calm down.  Take a deep breath."  He did. "Now.  Tell me what you saw"

"I.  Just got here.  I don't even know where I am.  I think I accidentally skipped a line or something, some new arrival orientation or processing?  I think I'm supped to work in the ore processing center."

“Alright.” trying not to lose my patience, “But what happened _here_?"

The Cardassian soldier spoke up, and gestured to the body lying facedown on the floor "He attacked us.  I killed him."

"Did he have a weapon?"

"I don't know, but I saw blood." she looked down at the body, "It was natural to assume that he did."

"Alright take me through it step by step" I said to the Cardassian soldier - who I now knew to be a bodyguard, "And you" I turned to the shaking Bajoran man, "don't go anywhere yet." I turned back to the bodyguard expectantly.

"We were just heading back to her quarters when this animal shouted something and lunged at us.  I pulled out my phaser and shot him.  That's it."

"Any idea why he might have attacked her?"

"Who knows what goes on in their heads."  Underneath her disdain was a shade of exhaustion. I turned back to the man.

"Did you hear what he shouted?”

The man swallowed, "yes.  And he didn't attack _them_ , he attacked _her_.  He shouted: 'look not to the prophets, collaborator,' and made his move.  It was calculated and swift.  Just one movement, and before she even knew what was happening, he'd... ripped out her earring."

I froze, not sure that I'd heard correctly, "He ripped out her earring?" The man nodded, "I've never heard of such a thing."

"It's... not something that happens very often.  She must have done something very, very serious to deserve it."

Just then the man I'd sent for the dermal regenerator returned; I took it from him, and turned to Tora Naprem.  "Tora.  Tora, it's Odo.  I need you to move your hands.  Please, so I can heal you."

She held her hands tighter to her ear, "No... no.  Don't."

"You'll keep bleeding.  You'll ruin your dress."

She turned just enough to glare, "Don't patronize me! I don't care.  But if you heal me it will close up, and seal up my pagh forever.  Please don't.  I won't be able to wear my d'ja pagh"

"You won't be able to wear it with your ear in shreds, either."

She ground her teeth and glared at me, tears spilling silently out of her eyes, and put her hands down.  I tried not to give any sort of reaction to the damage, but both the hard and soft cartilage had been torn - from where the piercing had been outward.  It was a relatively clean tear up top, but the bottom looked like something had taken a taken a bite out of her ear.  The regenerator healed her wounds, but her ear would be jagged on the bottom for good.  "There," I said, "healed.  How do you feel."

She didn’t meet my gaze   "like I'm not bleeding anymore.”

I stood, satisfied that she wasn’t going to fall apart, and pointed at the dead man.  “Turn him over, search him for a weapon.”  My deputies did as they were told.  The dead man had no weapon - as I knew he wouldn’t - but clutched in his right hand was the earring.  I took it from his grasp and ran my thumb over the intricate design work.  My witness peered over my shoulder and went very still.

“Tora?  I believe this is yours.”  She nodded and took my empty hand to help herself up rather than the earring.

“Don’t you need it for evidence?”  she said quietly.

“Not really.  Not as much as you -“

“I can’t wear it anymore.”  She straightened her clothes and nodded to her body guard, and they were on their way.

I turned back to the Bajoran man.  “Come with me - what’s your name?” 

“Tir Jolan.”

“Come with me, Tir.”

And led the way back to my office.  Once safely inside I offered him a seat, and a place to set down his pack.  He seemed thoughtful, no longer shaking and afraid, “So.” I said, “Tir, Let’s make this official, and then we can both be on our way.  Where were you directly prior to the att-“

"Who was that woman?” He interrupted, “I’ve never seen a Bajoran with a Cardassian bodyguard.  Is she a prisoner?”

An interesting question.  One I hadn’t considered before.  ”She is the mistress of Prefect Dukat."

His face darkened, "What."

"Yes.  And he’s extremely taken with her.”

"You know about her family, don't you?"

"I don't.  She never mentioned anything about them.  In any case I don’t see what that has to do with -“

Tir sighed at my ignorance, "Do you know how the Bajoran caste system used to operate?"

"The d’jarra? yes.  You were born into a family that determined your role in society.  Artist, leader, laborer..."

"Or Vedik.”

“Yes or -“  Tir raised his eyebrows.  So that was what this was about, “Tora Naprem - she…"

"Before the occupation, that woman would have been a religious leader, and the Bajorans on this station need only to look at her d’ja pagh to see what she is meant to be.”

“But the d’jarra is no longer practiced.  It’s become meaningless in light of the occupation.”

Kir shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter.  The Prophets still know.  Every time she smiles at Dukat, the Prophets scream in anger.  It's an insult. If she were a nobody, it would be bad enough.  But for a destined vedick to give up her path in order to bed a Cardassian?” he swallowed as though trying to rid himself of a bad taste, “- she's more than just a collaborator; she's an actively destructive force.  The Prophets will never help us overthrow our oppressors while she lives."

I covered my eyes and sighed, "so the Bajorans have a reason to want to kill her too.”

“…too?”

No point in hiding it now “Someone’s trying to kill her.  And my list of suspects just doubled.  So thank you.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

“No really thank you.  That is a valuable piece of information.”

Tir nodded “So.  Do you want my statement now?”

“Yes.  Thank you.”

“And what will happen to me after I give you my statement?”

He looked at me with such intensity and stillness it made me nervous.  I avoided his eyes, already missing the frightened, shaking young man from five minutes ago, “I don’t know.”  I said.

He laughed, “Yes you do.  You’ll take me back to processing, where they’ll put me in _ore_ processing, where I’ll either be worked to death, or starve to death, while you finish your investigation and continue to maintain station-wide order.  Isn’t that right?”

“Right.”  I could barely get the word out.  It was so much easier not knowing them.  It was so much more convenient in those days to enjoy my position of relative safety and maintain order from a position of sentimental detachment.

“Or I can help you in your investigation.”  Tir interrupted my thoughts.

“What?”

“I’ve already helped illuminate an aspect of the case that you might not have seen without me.  I might prove useful again.”  He was shaking again.  His entire fate rested on whatever I said next.  So I chose my words carefully.

“You have a point.  But I don’t know if they’ll go for it.”

Tir nodded sharply once.  I looked at his narrow shoulders, and thin, nearly visible ribcage.  He wouldn’t last two weeks in ore processing.

“However,” I finished, “I will ask.  When I bring you back to processing, I will ask if I can have you as one of my deputies.”

Tir tried to smile but was shaking too badly, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.  Now.  To your statement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quark's puddle line is stolen from my roommate. Because he said it once and it's hilarious.


	3. Dead Ends, and a Visit from the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Terok Nor, Odo is feeling the pressure of the case. The pieces just aren't adding up, and the clock is ticking...
> 
> Meanwhile on DS9, Odo is too busy for this crap.

 

“This really is the right time to turn a blind eye.Zelthvar isn’t here now, and If I keep arresting all the annoying little underlings, they’ll keep coming back, and the whole operation will continue to find a home here.But if Zelthvar thinks it’s safe to come here, I can just cut straight to banning her, and never have to worry about illegal Hara Cat fighting ever again.This whole thing makes me uncomfortable, but I think it’s the right call.”

“It makes you uncomfortable.” Major Kira tilted her head in concern.

“It does.”

“Would you say it…” She held back a mischievous grin, “‘makes your gelatinous insides churn?’”

“That’s awfully specific.I wou -“ Odo’s shoulders sagged, “You read the story too.”

Major Kira let out the laugh she’d apparently been keeping in all this time, and leaned forward in her chair. “I’ve been dying to talk to you about it ever since I came in here today”

“Really.”

“Yes!”

“How did you even get a hold of it?Jake promised me that it was just a writing exercise and that no one else would see it, and Lieutenant Dax promised - what am I talking about?She showed you, didn’t she.”

The Major nodded enthusiastically.“And I gotta say, I’m really glad she did.That scene where you just sit there to wear down Quark for information?I can just see you doing that.Have you ever actually done that?Just waited him out, like that?”

“No.I can’t say that I’ve ever had the time to kill for that particular interrogation tactic.”

 Her grin faded abruptly. “You don’t really mind do you?I can still talk to Jake about it.”

Odo sighed.The one ally he’d been counting on, “I thought you of all people would find the whole thing insulting.Honestly when I advised him against continuing the thing, it was _your_ … righteous fury I was picturing.”

“Oh I was ready to give him an earful over it.But it’s actually a pretty fun little story, and you’re such a hero, Odo! Of course,” her smile transformed into a firm, silent command, “no one else should read it.” It went without saying that she specifically meant Ziyal.  

Odo nodded solemnly.It was one thing to read about oneself solving crimes in a teenager’s imagination.But it was another thing entirely to read about one’s dead mother being threatened with murder.

“Odo?”Major Kira spoke lightly, but her brow was furrowed and her gaze was fixed somewhere in the middle distance over her left shoulder.Odo waited for her to continue. “Do you really feel trapped here?On the station?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You were here during the occupation, and then the Federation and there just wasn’t any time between.Between regimes.That’s got to feel kind of strange.Like no matter what happens, good or bad, _this place_ is a constant.”

Odo didn’t point out that she too had been on the station prior to the Federation’s involvement, and while he’d had the same role the entire time, her role on Terok Nor / Deep Space Nine had drastically changed.He had had the benefit of a smooth transition compared to her.He could have closed his eyes and never noticed that his reports were now delivered to a different government, and that when he said “sir”he meant a different person.Major Kira - Nerys - had had a different experience.She was in the strange position of finding her entire knowledge base outdated before she hit middle age.And this station really was the only constant.Her best and worst times had been here. However, she had asked if _he_ felt trapped.Not invited him (or herself) to investigate her feelings.So he said: “I think that’s more an insight into the feelings of young Sisko.Not mine.”

Major Kira nodded in the direction of a vague middle distance over her left shoulder and took a deep breath.

“Anyway,” she snapped back to attention and smiled wide, “I can’t wait to read the rest of it - when he finishes.What is she hiding?Who’s the killer?”

“You’re going to read the rest of it?”

“Aren’t you?How far are you?”

“I just got to the part where we find out that the woman’s d’ja paghwould have made her a spiritual leader before the occupation.”

“Ooh you gotta get Jake to give you the rest of what he’s written.”

 

——————

 

The man who had attacked Tora Naprem on the promenade was a dead end.He had no known affiliates or friends, and no living family.I quickly learned that he was from the same social caste as Tora - he too would have been on the track to become a Vedek before the occupation.When asked, his fellow prisoners described him as sanctimonious and insufferable.If he was a part of some group that wanted her dead, his ties to it were expertly hidden.If he was the assassin all this time, then the case was closed and I could rest easy, but somehow he didn’t seem the type.He seemed like an indignant lone aggressor.Seeing her every day with Dukat must have enraged a man like him - to see someone like her throw away - as he saw it - her prophet ordained place in society.However, the act of tearing her ear itself had seemed more passionate and less thought out than the carefully crafted assassination attempts Tora had described before.The man gave me absolutely no leads.Unless he had been the killer all along, but I couldn’t think that way in case I was wrong.

The good thing to come out of all this was that I had managed to get a hold of Tir Jolan’s contract with relative ease, and change his time from service in the ore working plant to service under me.

He told me about his life and how he had come to find himself on the station.Hisolder sister, Jilara, had been a part of the resistance.He’d grown up trying to keep his head down and out of trouble - making a concerted effort to avoid drawing attention to himself.So when she had joined, he had chosen to completely cut her from his life and keep himself safe.When she was killed two years later, he regretted his decision and tried to make late amends by taking Jilara’s widow - Tarlys - into his home.She lived with him for a few months, and they mourned Jilara together but all the while - and without Jolan’s knowledge - Tarlys was still involved in the resistance.A week ago, Cardassian soldiers had raided his home, and found evidence of secret resistance cell meetings. He had truly had no idea that the meetings had been taking place in his own home, but of course the Cardassians didn’t believe him,.

Because he was a first time offender, and judged a relatively harmless member of the resistance (if a member at all), he had been sent to serve his time here on Terok Nor.To avoid a harsher sentence, he had had to pretend that he belonged here.

He had no idea where Tarlys had been sent, but he suspected it was someplace much worse.

He was grateful, to me for getting him out of ore work and was instantly useful.Within a few hours of his signing on with me, he caught a petty thief just by taking a look at the bystanders.I sent him to his quarters - shared by my other deputies - to turn in early for the evening, and he again was grateful for the time to truly get himself situated.

I headed back to my office to settle a few final affairs of my own - sort paperwork and such - before I could retire myself.As soon as my office was in sight I could see it was already occupied.I stopped.Surely I had locked it before leaving?I approached more slowly and saw that there were two people, a woman sitting in the guest’s chair - Tora Naprem - and a Cardassian man in soldier’s uniform.Prefect Dukat.

“Hello.” I said as I entered my own office.

Dukat turned around and smiled.Like I was a friend.“Ah!Odo.”

“Prefect Dukat,” I nodded, “Tora Naprem.”

Her eyes met mine in silent pleading: Don’t.Tell him.

“May I ask what brings you in this evening?” I said, “nothing too troubling, I hope.”

Dukat looked down at Tora indulgently. “Well,” he said. “We’re just here to get her earring back.I trust you have gleaned all the evidence you’re going to get from it?”

“I have.” I went to the evidence lockbox behind my desk.

“I really don’t need it back, Skrain,” she said.

Dukat glanced at me conspiratorially, daring me to be shocked at her informality, “Naprem, my dear,” he touched her mangled ear. She leaned into the touch and met his eyes, “Just because you can’t wear it anymore, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have it back.”He turned to me and smiled in indulgent exasperation, “It’s the most valuable thing she owned before meeting me - she’s always been so sentimental about it!And now she doesn’t want it?”

I put the earring on my desk.Seeing it again I was embarrassed at myself for missing the intricacy of the design.The extra chain - not as ornate as full vedek's, but enough to mark her as higher than ordinary.I looked at her to see what she would do.She stared at the earring and made no move to pick it up.

Dukat sighed, “In case you change your mind later,” and reached for it himself.

“No!” Tora’s hand slapped over the d’ja pagh before Dukat could touch it, “I’ll take it.”

Dukat chuckled and shook his head at me as though sharing some private joke.I smiled thinly. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” Dukat said. “I’d like an update on Naprem’s other case.”Tora froze.Dukat didn’t seem to notice her reaction.

“Other case?”

“The stolen bracelet.”

“Of course.My progress on locating the stolen bracelet. Unfortunately there’s just not very much to go on. I’ve started, but --” I looked directly at Naprem, hoping she would understand what case I was really talking about, “I’ll admit I’ve made hardly any progress.”

“Oh that’s too bad,” she said softly.

Dukat touched her head. “Not to worry, my dear. We can find you one that’s very similar.I know you had sentimental attachment to that bracelet, but we can attach fresh sentiment to a new piece. How does that sound?”

She shook her head. “I’m running out of time. I leave tomorrow morning, and who knows when I’ll be back at the station.” Her words were desperate, “I might never come back.”

“I promise I’m doing everything I can.I’m taking this very seriously.” I said

“If he doesn’t find it by tomorrow, then Odo will give it to me when he  _does_ find it, and I’ll bring it to you on Bajor.” Naprem nodded distantly, and Dukat directed his attention back to me, “I’m worried about her,” he said as though she wasn’t still there, “it’s starting to feel personal.First her bracelet, now her earring. Could someone be targeting her?Are these a series of cruel pranks?”

I looked at her, and her eyes silently commanded again to keep the murder threats quiet. “I wouldn’t worry about it.I think that the bracelet was probably misplaced, or stolen.As for the earring, the perpetrator was a crazed, lone attacker.And he’s dead now, so there’s no need to worry.Just the strange coincidences that happen on a complex station like Terok Nor.”

This seemed to placate Prefect Dukat. “If that’s what you think.”

“Should you need anything else, do not hesitate to contact me,” I said - distantly worried that my uncharacteristic helpfulness would tip him off to my secrets.

“We shall.Thank you.” He petted Tora’s hair as though they didn’t have an audience.A sudden shocking wave of dislike coursed through me, “Well then, it seems our business here is done.Shall we, Naprem?”

She stood, tucking the d’ja pagh carefully into a cleverly hidden pocket in her dress. “Thank you, Odo,” she said “For everything.”

“Good luck Odo” Dukat called from the door.I was getting ready to collapse into my chair when he turned back around to ask one more question, “You’re the chief of security, Odo.You know how things work around here.”

“For the most part, I like to think I do.”

“How would _you_ kill someone on this station?”

The question seemed to come from nowhere, but against my will an answer began to take form in my head.I would sneak into your quarters and take the form of something that belongs there, I thought.Then I would wait for an opportune moment.A bath, sleep, perhaps.And I would transform one of my own extremities into a blade and stab you silently in the throat.You would watch as I wipe your own blood on your sheets, and escape through a vent, and you would be unable to shout.No one would find a trace of me, and no one would find a murder weapon.Only you would know what I’d done, and you would be in no position to point fingers.Dukat tilted his head, still waiting for a response.  

“I _wouldn’t_ kill someone.”I said truthfully.Because it would be too easy.And because I’m the only one on this station that could do so without leaving a trace.And I could never arrest someone for a crime I know I committed.And I didn’t - I _don’t_ want to be killed myself. Dukat smiled indulgently.

“I guess we should all be thankful for that steadfast morality of yours,” he said. In my head I agreed.He should be very grateful, indeed.He put a hand on the small of Tora Naprem’s back and led her back towards his quarters for the night.I watched them leave before taking my seat.Before finally taking a breath.

I would never say that I was afraid of Prefect Dukat, and I would never say that I hated him.But I was afraid of him.And I did hate him no matter how unbiased I tried to remain. There was something revolting and horrifying about him.A few minutes in his presence and I found it difficult to maintain my shape.How did Tora Naprem manage it?  

I had to figure out what was going on, to save this woman’s life.She deserved at least that much.I don’t have a heart. I don’t have blood to pump, or muscles to replenish.But I do have feelings.I don’t have a central command for my emotions.I don’t know where I keep them, but I do have them.They flow through me - a different consistency, almost a different color in the formula of my being. If I’d taken a step back from myself, I might have wondered how, in so short a time Tora Naprem had managed to thread her color into mine.Why her concerns had come to concern me so much, so quickly.Why I worried about what must have been her revulsion - her problem - when it was no concern of mine and had no bearing on the case at large.If I’d taken a step back I might have been worried about the stateof my impartiality.But I was too tired, to scared to fail and find her dead to take the time for any heavy introspection.So I let the color of her twist and glow in my being, edging me on, urging me to solve the case.Find her killer.

I combed through what I already knew.There had to be something that I’d overlooked.So what then?The replicator.The delivery. The turbolift.What did they have in common?All but the delivery required some sort of expertise to pull off.And all but the delivery would require some very noticeable type of repair.Someone would have to go into Tora Naprem’s quarters to repair the replicator.Someone would also have reason to enter her quarters for a delivery.  

All but the turbolift required entrance to her quarters.If the Bajorans were behind her assassination attempts, it made sense.Bajoran workers were often used for petty electrical repairs and deliveries.And would be granted entrance to anyone’s quarters without a second thought.Tora said that the faulty replicator was the first attempt on life.but what if that had been a false clue?Poisoning is a notoriously shaky method of murder.But what if the poisoning had been a ruse to get the killer into her quarters in the first place?Then why hadn’t he or she killed Tora, or left something that would kill her in her quarters when they were performing the repairs?Maybe Tora and Dukat were both there, when the repairs were made, making it impossible to try anything.If that was what had stopped the attempt it must be the sort of murder method that can only be committed then and there - not an explosive or something that will kill her later - because even if Dukat had been there, an individual could easily find a moment to leave it somewhere.So it had to be done in person.

The delivery, then was a second attempt to get into her quarters.That’s why they ran away so quickly.Maybe it was freak chance that the guard’s schedules had been out of sync.The assassin saw their opportunity and knocked on Tora Naprem’s door.Then they heard a noise and assumed the next guard was coming onto duty and ran away.Then the turbolift.It seemed desperate.Whatever method of murder that had required the killer to be in the same room as Tora had been attempted twice, failed twice, and apparently rejected.The turbolift was a departure, and it hadn’t worked either.  

And the man who had attacked Tora on the promenade?He must have known he would be killed for it.And quickly, too.His attack seemed focused, and of very singular intent.If he was a part of a group, it was foolish for them to tip their hand like that. No. More likely he had no idea that someone was trying to kill Tora Naprem.It was a strange coincidence, but I could not understand why a serious assassination attempt would take such a desperate last swing and essentially quit after only three real attempts.

So that meant the killer - or killers - were still out there, and were planning something that she wouldn’t be able to get away from.Tora Naprem was boarding a shuttle tomorrow morning, and if my instincts were correct, they wouldn’t let her get all the way to Bajor alive.  

But how to find them?Originally, the whole thing seemed to hinge around getting into close proximity with the intended victim, and the first real attempt had been the repair of Tora’s food replicator.So if I found who had done the repairs, would I find the killer?It was a bit of a leap, but I had to explore it.Ignoring the voice in the back of my head that whispered that it was inexcusable to have ignored this potential evidence for so long, I pulled up the repair records from the week Tora’s replicator had broken down.On the day itself, the only repairs were:

 

Minor repairs to a Ferengi cargo freighter

Minor repairs to upper pylon 2

Minor repairs to a Cardassian Shuttle

 

That in itself was not that unusual.So it must have taken a few days to get the thing fixed.However, the next day, there were no replicator repairs.And the next: none.The day after that a replicator was repaired on the other side of the station, but not in quarters.In fact, Tora Naprem’s replicator had not been repaired in the entire week following the day she said it had malfunctioned.And the week after that - nothing.Despite the heat, my insides felt cold.Maybe she hadn’t gotten it repaired?No.No she’d said that Dukat had teased her when he sent for repairs.Something was wrong.Someone apparently thought it was important enough to alter the records. Someone with either the skill or the clearance to do so. A Cardassian after all? I stood from my desk in frustration and walked around my office.I needed a second pair of eyes.

Two hours after Dukat and Tora Naprem were out of my office, I sent for Tir Jolan.He arrived a few minutes later, looking disheveled and half awake.

“Tir.Please sit.” he did, “We have a case.Normally for something like this, I would want the help of someone that has been working with me for much longer. However, as this is an emergency and a delicate situation, I want as few people involved in the investigation as possible, and as you are already involved, here you are.”

“Already involved?But I haven’t -“

“I’m talking about Tora Naprem.”

“The collaborator.”

“If you like.But please put your personal feelings for her aside for a moment. She needs our help. This is more than a matter of placing extra security around her. This goes deeper than we think, and until we find out what her affiliation is, we won’t know who’s trying to kill her.

“She didn’t tell you whose side she’s on?”

“No.”

“Did it occur to you that maybe she’s on no one’s side but her own?”

“Then who would try so hard to kill her?”

Tir shrugged.

“We can’t think like that.We might as well admit defeat and kill her ourselves if we do.Here is what I have so far.” I handed him a PADD. “All I know is that she’s afraid.Afraid of whoever is trying to kill her, afraid to say whose side she’s on.She’s keeping something from me, and that in itself is a clue.I want you to go over this, and make a list of any further materials you want me to access for you.For obvious reasons, you can’t access any information by yourself.I’ll be back shortly.If you leave this room, I’ll know.”

I closed and coded the door behind me, leaving Tir in my office alone.It made me uneasy to leave someone in such close proximity to all of my files, but it would take him a long time to hack into any of them - so much time as to be not worth it.In any case, these were desperate times, no use pretending otherwise.I squared my shoulders and took off through the sloping, darkened promenade. 

 


	4. Don't Try to Fray the Hangman's Rope.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Terok Nor, Odo begins to suspect that this case is not what he thought it was. But is it too late?
> 
> Meanwhile, on DS9, Odo has resigned himself to his literary fame.

 

Dr. Julian Bashir managed the bare minimum of a courtesy knock before launching into Odo’s office.

“Did you get to the part with Garak in it?”

Odo looked up from his work and met the doctor’s grin with a carefully blank face. “No.”

“ _Oh._ You have to get Jake to give the rest of what he’s written.it’s gotten to the really good part.”

Odo sighed.There was no point in asking how he had gotten his hands on the story.Odo was resigned to the fact that everyone on this station, and probably their family back home, and friends from academy had read it by now.At this point he wouldn’t have been surprised to receive messages from Dukat congratulating him on the heroics of his fictional counterpart.“That’s nice.”

“So how far are you? In the story?”

“I just got to the part where… Odo is confronted by Prefect Dukat.”

“Oh I loved that scene.” Dr. Bashir said quickly, “How you were planning his murder in your head, knowing that it’s impossible?And how you and Naprem were having a completely different conversation. Right under his nose!” Bashir plunked ungracefully into the seat across from Odo’s desk.“It’s never even occurred to me that you used to have to answer to Dukat.” he said, “I mean, I _knew_ you did, but I never really _thought_ about it.What was that like?Were you really repulsed and reviled by him like it says in the story?”

“Frankly,” Odo sighed, “I was more concerned about maintaining order, and not dying.Dukat was just someone I sent reports to.I didn’t… _like_ him.But it wasn’t worth the risk to actively hate him.”

Julian frowned.

“Not, I’ll grant you, as exciting a story as the imagination of Jake Sisko could produce, but it is the truth.”

“Well, either way.You have to read the next part.Garak is in it.”

Odo had to admit that he was curious how Jake would write The Mysterious Tailor into his story.“What does Garak think of that?”

Bashir grimaced “ _Oh_. He hasn’t read it.Yet.Human mysteries aren’t really his bag.I was just on my way to the shop to see if he had…Maybe I’d better warn him off…”

“Well. I won’t keep you any longer,” Odo said, as though Bashir had been invited at all. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Odo!Get Jake to give you the next part.”

 

———————

 

 

I had left this as a last resort.This man.

He’d been on the station when I arrived and I’m sure he’ll be stuck here long after I find a way to leave.

I don’t know much about Cardassians, but I’ve seen enough to know that mending soldiers’ uniforms has got to be the lowest work they’d assign one of their own.Whoever he was - whoever he had been - he must have angered exactly the wrong people.And angered them sorely to earn this disgrace.

 

I hesitated just outside the door to his shop.Once he was involved there was no going back.I already owed him a favor, and I hated to think of owing him two. But I was stuck in the middle of nowhere like a runabout with a faulty warp-core. I had too many leads, and if anyone could tell me which roads would take me only to a dead end and a dead Bajoran woman, it was this man.

The shop was dark, silhouettes of half repaired uniforms standing silent guard about the space.This late at night the door should have been locked, but it opened easily for my entrance.

“Ah!” The voice came from a shadow in a darkened corner, and Garak stepped from his work table and out into the musty light, “The chief of security. What a nice surprise.” He set down the uniform he had been repairing and smiled hollowly, “I don’t believe we’ve met.‘Odo,’ is that right?” 

“Mr. Garak.” I said, “don’t pretend you’ve forgotten.You helped me with the Do-an case some months back.”

The man paused and searched the air “Did I?Do-an… Do _-an_?” He looked back at me, perplexed, “I’m afraid I don’t remember that particular interaction.But then, I talk to so many people on a given day.I hope I was helpful.”

I pursed my lips, annoyed by the jovial facade.And annoyed at having been so easily annoyed.Two sentences in. I had to step up my game, “You _were_ helpful.I was able to catch the killer…”

“I’m glad.”

“…by doing exactly the opposite of what you told me to do.”

Garak’s smile widened “So you decided on a stakeout after all?How pedestrian.”

“a stakeout is hardly pedestrian when you can sit next to the subject undetected for an entire evening in his own quarters.”

“Ah.” he picked at a thread on the uniform, apparently disinterested in my abilities. “And how may I help you today?I don’t think tailoring skills can be much use to you”

“I’m afraid I’m here on some unpleasant business.”

“Oh dear.Nothing too serious I hope?No murder plots or plans to blow up a ship?”

“Have you _heard_ anything about a murder plot?”

“One hears all sorts of things in my line of work.The difficult thing is discerning the facts from the fabrications.Though in my experience, fabrications are facts too.”

“And a murder plot?”

“Who is it that’s piqued your concern so much? Word is you’ve been seen with a lovely Bajoran woman. Has she been filling your head with stories of murder?”

I took a deep breath and gathered my strength, “Mr Garak.I know you consider straight-talking a bit gauche, but a woman’s life is on the line, it’s been a long week, and I’m tired of playing games.Tell me:have you, or haven’t you heard anything about a plot on Tora Naprem’s life? I know you know something, because you always know something.The question becomes: will you use what you know to save a woman’s life?”

Garak frowned, “we’re a lot alike.”

I stood up. This had been a waste of my time but at least now I didn’t owe him another favor.

“No really.We are, Odo.We’re both forgotten, ignored and abandoned by the rest of our kind.”

I stopped at the door and crossed my arms. “Please get to your point.”

“And here we both are on this station, not because we _have_ to be, and _not_ because we want to be, but because we have nowhere better to go.”

I didn’t trust myself to comment on that one.Garak restored his smile and continued.

“Of course it could be argued that no one on this station really _wants_ to be here.Which I suppose would make us _all_ alike in a way.”He picked up his work again as he continued to speak. “I meet and interact with many people in this line of work.I’ve even made a few garments for Miss Tora recently.She had some… _pressing_ concerns with regards to finding the proper cut to flatter her figure, and I can say with absolutely no ego that I rose to the challenge and outfitted her beautifully.Don’t you agree?”

I looked at him in a way I’d trained myself not to look at people who could potentially help me.He smiled through my incredulity.

“We have a saying on Cardassia: ‘don’t bother fraying the hangman’s rope.’ It rhymes - in our native language - so that even children can remember it.Can you guess what it means?”

I rolled my eyes, “Please tell me.What does it mean.”

“It means once someone has made enough bad decisions, it’s useless trying to save them.Don’t bother fraying the hangman’s rope because even if it snaps and they live, you’ve only earned them a momentary reprieve.They’ll still be executed because that’s where their bad decisions have led them.”

A perfect saying for a society who believes it’s justice system is incapable of fault.For a moment I envied that absolute confidence. 

“I’m not going to help you because a woman’s life is at risk.If - _when_ her secret is discovered, I’m certain she’ll be put to death.But that won’t be murder.It will be… morality.And I’m not helping you because I care about the outcome of this little caper.I truly. Sincerely.Do not care if you prevent this or not.”

I turned to leave with more finality,

“Oh but I will help you.I just want you to be fully aware as to _why_.”

“Why.”

“Because if this plot goes through, _you_ will be implicated, and you _will_ be put to death.And that’s what I’d rather not let happen.”

“What?”

“Tora Naprem is not in danger”

“What are you saying - that’s not -“

Garak waved his hand impatiently.“Yes her life is in danger but not any more than usual.”

“But the plot -”

“There _is_ no plot on Tora Naprem’s life.She is _not the one_ under the immediate threat of murder.You’re being led on a merry chase.And I’ll set you on the right path with one question: who fixed Tora Naprem’s food replicator?”

I scowled “Someone must have, I just don’t know who. The records have been erased.”Garak raised one brow in innocent inquisition and my insides became cold.I _didn’t_ know who had done the repairs, but more pressing than that, I couldn’t say with absolute certainty that they had taken place at all.“Why wouldn’t it have been repaired?”

“Why repair something that was never broken?”

“But she told me - why would she lie about that?”

“Why indeed?” Garak gave a friendly nod, “Goodbye Odo. Remember this when you’re not executed.” I glared, and it seemed only to oil his gestures smoother. He shrugged. “It’s always a good idea to have someone in law enforcement who owes you a favor.Or _two_ I think it is now.”

He looked back at his work to illustrate that this conference was over, and I backed out of the shadowy shop leaving its owner to confer with the uniformed mannequins and overhear the whispers of Terok Nor.

My office seemed farther than it ever had and I was grateful it was the dead of station night, because I could swear any Cardassian, Bajoran, or merchant on the promenade would see my shame if they saw me now: I’d made an amateur mistake.I had been so convinced by her that I was more willing to believe that the repair records were wrong than entertain the idea that she had lied to me. 

Garak had said she wasn’t the one in danger - someone else was.But who? And why would _I_ be implicated if the plot succeeded?I stopped mid-stride in the middle of the promenade.Dukat. _She_ was going to kill Dukat.I would be implicated because Tora Naprem was the perpetrator.I thought back to the moment when she had dismissed her guard.How that must have looked to her, the two of us - not Cardassians - speaking in private.And if the plot succeeded, I would have been the one who had had private counsel with her.I was right back where I started.No.Worse than where I started.I had a new victim, a new murderer, no idea how the deed would be done, and less than a day to solve it.

Back in my office, Tir was waiting for me.

“I have a list of the things I want to look up.”

“Change of plans, Tir.Tora’s not the victim.She’s the murderer.”

“What?”

“She’s going to try to kill… someone”

Tir frowned, “Dukat.”

I looked up at him, my face blank.He shrugged.

“Who else would she try to kill?”

I hmph’d in agreement. “I need you to take a look at Dukat.Anything that we can access - I’ll tell you now there’s not a lot, but anything you can find of his comings and goings, based on the recorded schedules of the people around him: meetings that have been made public, anyone that’s been in his quarters in the last few weeks - I want to know about it.I also want to find out what he has planned today.”

“Just today?”

Tora was leaving the station this morning.If she was going to make a move it was now or never. “Just today.While you do that, I’ll try to find what Tora is hiding.”

It was no good to simply lock her up now.She might have already set her plan in motion, and letting her know I was on to her might only force her hand.

I could find little on her family - they had all been killed except her.This was standard practice in early days of the occupation: kill off all the religious leaders, and the morale of the people will flounder.Apparently her family had hidden out for years, teaching the word of the prophets in secret.When they were caught, she’d been chosen as a comfort woman rather than killed with the rest of them.Lucky her.

She had quickly gained the favor of Dukat, but he hadn’t been her first “protector.”That dubious distinction went to the man that had spared her life in the first place.

This was all very unfortunate but it didn’t help me find how she was going to commit murder.And how she planned to get away with it.She was followed everywhere by a guard.There was no way she could have sent any but the most obscure message to anyone.

In desperation, I pulled up cargo records, trade records, departure and arrival schedules. Everything was frustratingly unremarkable, documented, and in order.I was just about to throw the PADD on the ground when I saw it.

There were only two scheduled departures for this late morning: Tora Naprem’s private runabout to Bajor, and Quark’s mysterious cargo freighter.Quark’s black-market-vessel-of-the-week was scheduled to depart just five minutes before Tora Naprem’s shuttle.I had ignored it earlier because I promised I would in exchange for his cooperation.But now I remembered how Quark had frozen when I mentioned it.I had assumed he was afraid - that he was smuggling something serious - weapons, bio-memetic gel, pure latinum?Prophets only knew.But thinking back to the conversation. _‘you know about that cargo?’_ he seemed more confused than afraid,  _‘but if you know about that then why are you even-‘_ Why was I even asking about Tora Naprem?That cargo had something to do with this and it had been staring me directly in the face from the moment I first spoke to Quark.The cargo was conspicuously benign: Cardassian rik-nuts.

I had to check. “Tir.”He looked up.

“I still haven’t found anything, Odo.Whatever she has planned, it’s cleanly done.”

“Never mind that.I need you to get a team together to perform an unscheduled search of this vessel.” I handed him the PADD.

“Isn’t that Illegal?Don’t we need -“

The look I gave silenced him immediately.“It’s probably nothing.But get some of the other deputies together and perform a search.I’ve got a bartender to see.”

Back to Quark’s.I should have known I was going to see him again before all this was over.

It was very early, so the bar wasn’t officially open, but Quark was there, as ever.A staple of this unstable landscape.

“Quark.”I said.

“Odo.”No pleasantries.No denials.Just a greeting.He knew why I was here.He knew he was about to lose.

“About that freighter you have scheduled to depart today - “

“Not technically mine.And I thought you said you were going to ignore that vessel.”

“And so I was.Luckily I came to my senses.”

“You’re not going to find anything on it.”

“Cardassian Rik-nuts, correct?”

“Yep.And that’s all you’ll find.”

“Maybe.But that’s not the only cargo.Is it?”

Quark said nothing.He carefully set down the glass he had been cleaning and picked up another.

“How did she get you to help her?”

Quark paused in polishing the glass just long enough to meet my eyes, “How do you think?”

“You’re disgusting.”

Quark threw his hands up “I’m a businessman!But I’ll take barter when necessary.And believe me, she had a _lot_ to offer.”

“So you agreed to be an accessory to murder?”

Quark sighed and set down the glass, “Odo.I don’t know if your species evolved with a survival instinct, but mine did.So can you please _not yell_ when discussing this sort of thing around me?”

“What else do you know about what she’s planning?Because if she succeeds, I’ll see that you’re implicated.”

“The Prefect will be glad to know you _care_ so much about saving his life.” Quark sneered.

“I care about preventing murder.”

He was clearly unimpressed by my unbiased devotion to justice. “I know nothing else.And that’s the truth this time.I only know that they’re supposed to beam her out of her runabout just before it explodes-“ 

“ _Explodes?_ ”

“And then take her into -” he chuckled, “ _Federation Space_ where she’ll claim political asylum.”

“ _What._ ”

“That’s all I know.”

Not for the first time, I wished I could experience the bracing calm that humanoids seemed to get from a stiff drink.“The Federation won’t take a Cardassian Prefect’s murderer.The situation between them is too delicate.”

“Like I said.That’s all I know.That was my side of the bargain and I didn’t ask for a blow by blow of her master plan.”

“But she’ll never be granted asylum… unless they can’t pin it on her…” Something on a timer.Or better yet, synced up to Dukat himself.Something remote and foolproof that will only kill _him_.She could say that someone had it out for them both, and the federation wouldn’t look too closely at her claims - with their notorious self-righteous morality, it was obvious what the Federation’s opinion of the occupation must be.They’d be all too happy to help her. “Thank you, Quark.” I said quickly, and ran out of the bar.

Tir was already back in my office. I went straight to my evidence box. “What did you find?” I asked quickly.

“Nothing! We found nothing.Cardassian Rik-nuts.Lots and lots of Cardassian Rik-nuts. just like the freighter’s documents said there would be. I really can’t see how that cargo relates to all this.” I didn’t answer, occupied as I was with rummaging through the evidence box,“Odo. Whatever she’s done, whatever she’s planning, I can’t figure it out.”

“Well, I know how she’s going to get away with it.” I found what I’d been fishing around for, “Let’s go -“

“Wait - how”

“She’s going to be dead.”

“What?”

“Follow me.”

It was now officially station morning.Shopkeepers were stirring in the promenade, and we walked as quickly as we could without attracting undue attention. Within minutes we were in front of Dukat’s quarters.

“Security emergency,” I told the guard, “I need to speak to Prefect Dukat immediately.”The guard looked uncomfortable but commed for Dukat, who shortly thereafter appeared at the door, barely dressed, and very annoyed.

“What is it, Odo?”

“Prefect Dukat, I have reason to believe both you and Tora Naprem are in grave, immediate danger.”

“Is that so?And you woke me up for this?” he smiled, “Odo, I am _always_ in grave, immediate danger.” 

A very pale looking Tora appeared behind him wearing a dressing gown, “Both of us?” she asked pointedly, “What makes you think it’s immediate?”

I produced the bracelet, “this is yours, isn’t it?”

Tora looked at the bracelet in my hand and back up at me. “Yes.” She said carefully.

I put it back in my pocket, “I have reason to believe that the… murderer hid it away.” I told Dukat.

“What would be the point of that?” he said

I looked pasthim and straight to Tora, “To distract me.”all the blood seemed to drain from her face, leaving her as white as a bajoran lily under the unflattering, murky station light. “I’d like to take you both into protective custody.”

Dukat laughed.“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Odo.You can take her, but I am rather _essential_ to the running of this station.I’ll double my security for the day.Will that keep you satisfied?”It didn’t.But I couldn’t give orders to Dukat so I nodded stiffly.

“Tir, take ToraNaprem into protective custody, and _do not_ leave her alone.”

“Right now?” her voice was unusually high, and I knew instantly that whatever plan she had, it wasn’t ready, “I’m supposed to leave the station in just a few hours.Surely my usual security will keep me safe for that long.”

I tilted my head impassively, “ _immediately.”_ I said, “Don’t you want to stay safe?”

She gritted her teeth, “Of course,” and let Tir lead her away, “watch over her until I get back.”Tir nodded his assent.I watched them round the corner and turned back to Dukat once I knew they wouldn’t hear.

“Once you leave your quarters, Prefect, I must ask you not to return to them until I and my deputies have cleared them.”

He smiled, amused at my seriousness.

First I sent out an order to belay the departure of Tora’s shuttle, and the Ferengi freighter until they were both cleared.I then oversaw the search of Dukat’s quarters. They found nothing after two hours’ work.No explosives or unusual items.Everything was normal.I told Dukat that his quarters had been cleared for him if he needed them.

Finally I sent out a call for my most trusted deputies, and some Cardassian engineers to meet me at the shuttle bay that held Tora’s shuttle. when I arrived they were already there, ten of us in all.I briefed them on the situation, and with caution we scanned and searched the shuttle. Our numbers proved excessive because the tampering was obvious and dramatic.The shuttle would have exploded within a minute of its departure from the station.Some delicate re-wiring had to be done so I left the engineers and headed to the cells to find Tora.  

She was alone.I sat heavily - suddenly feeling the effects of my all night work binge - just outside the forcefield of her cell.

“So.”I said.

“So.”

We were silent, then, “I’m sorry I lied to you Odo.It was necessary.”

I humph’d. “I had people search Dukat’s quarters immediately after you were taken away.They’re now perfectly safe.Luckily they weren’t harmed by anything you might have left there.”She looked down at her folded hands, 

“I didn’t have time.”

I nodded and stood to leave.

“Where are you going?” she asked quickly.

“To get some much-needed and deserved rest.I’ll deal with you in a few hours.For now, I’d like you to sit in here, and formulate the most concise and truthful statement you can muster.There’s no way you can avoid criminal charges now.However, you can minimize the damage if you don’t lie.”She smiled the smile of a woman ready to greet death on the horizon.She knew when to expect it, and she knew I couldn’t save her or minimize anything.

I entered my personal security code into the control panel near the door to the brig - no one but me would even get into the same room as her now.She wasn’t getting to any shuttle, or Rik-nut freighter, and she definitely wasn’t getting to Federation space.At this stage, a few hours’ rest could only be a good thing for the investigation. I was just about to close the door when I noticed it: “Where did Tir go?” I turned back to look at her.

She looked at me impassively, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No.He brought me here, we spoke for a moment, and then he just… ran off.

“He ran off?” I tried to find some answer in her eyes, but they were defiantly blank.

“He seemed like he was in a hurry,” she said quietly. And then, incredibly, she smiled. I understood.

This time I didn’t bother saving myself any undue attention.I ran as fast as my exhaustion would allow.  

If only I’d had the energy to fly, I might have gotten there on time.All I could do was stay in one form, and run as fast as my humanoid legs would take me.But it wasn’t fast enough.By the time I got there, he was already dead.Tir still had one hand on a small device in the corner of the room.He must have been crouched there when he was shot in the back.He was lying on his side, facing the wall, one shoulder propped up. 

“Well, the good news is, I think we found our murderer.” Dukat said, holstering his phaser.“He was trying to activate some sort of device when I came back.With all that excitement this morning, I forgot my insignia.A pure accident of chance that I was here to see him try it.” He nudged Tir’s limp body with the toe of his boot, making him flop onto his back. Dukat tilted his head. “I have no idea how he got in, though,” he mused.

Tora had told him how, of course.I never should have left them alone.Even for ten minutes.I should have known a man with nothing to lose could be swayed by someone as cunning as her. I couldn’t speak.

“You had no idea, did you, Odo?” Dukat seemed unperturbed by the whole affair.I shook my head no, unable to look up from Tir. “Hmm.Well.Betrayal is something you learn to expect.And you won’t let this happen again?” I finally looked up to see him smiling at me like an indulgent father.I turned away in disgust.“Odo, you must not let this affect you too much.I know you feel like you should have seen this coming, but these things happen.And everything has turned out _all right._ No one was hurt.”He looked back down at the man he had just killed, “I trust it won’t be too difficult to get rid of this.”

 A distracted thought whispered that Tir would have been better off in ore processing after all. “I’ll call someone immediately to dispose of him.” I was about to leave it at that when I remembered my job, “And the device he was activating, it’s a genetic-recognition detonator if I’m not mistaken.It will only detonate if you touch it.So. Don’t.”

“You can be sure that I won’t.”

Dukat had an extra jaunt in his step - pleased to have escaped so narrow a brush with death.

“I won’t be so easily fooled next time,” I said. 

“Of course you won’t!Betrayal happens to everyone at least once.You’re lucky you have such an understanding commanding officer.Someone else could have had you killed.Poor Naprem.She must have been so frightened expecting a murderer all day.She’s not used to this sort of threat to her life.”

“She’s been perfectly safe all this while.”

“There’s no reason to keep her in there anymore, is there?”

“I suppose there’s not.”

 


	5. The Confession of Tora Naprem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Terok Nor, Tora Naprem's secret makes Odo question his sturdy long held beliefs  
> Meanwhile on DS9, Odo receives a visit from the person he should have been expecting all along.

 

“Dukat is still alive.And Tir Jolan has died on your errand”

Tora Naprem stood on the opposite side of my desk.I couldn’t keep her in the brig anymore.She was still. And she couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Your bracelet.”I set it on my desk.She came back to life enough to look at it but made no move to take it back. “Was any of it true?”I finally demanded.

Tora Naprem’s liquidy hazel eyes, welled up with drops that she refused to let fall. “The attempted poisoning?” I persisted, “The mysterious delivery?The altered guard schedule?” I listed off, my voice mounting with every bogus ‘clue.’

“I had to keep you busy,” she muttered, “If anyone was going to stop me, it was going to be you.”

“So what is this?You’re with the resistance I suppose.”

“Would that make a difference”

“Not at all!” I said lightly, “It’s my job to punish attempted _murderers_ no matter themotivation.”

“Very good!” She laughed, “One must stay objective and unbiased!”

“Yes.One must.”

“Or else you’d go _mad_ in this job.I understand.”

My body went tense at her condescension.An untempered rage spread through me like a drop of ink in a glass of water.I didn’t open my mouth for fear of losing my temper or losing my form.I no longer trusted that my nobler senses of blind justice were in charge.Was this because she had lied to me?Or because I’d so easily bought the lie?

“I see no point in keeping the truth from you now. Now that you’ve denied me forever what I’ve dreamed of for the last three years”

“And what’s that?The death of Prefect Dukat?”

“Yes.” She said simply. I folded my hands on my desk, patiently waiting for her to continue, “I’m not with the resistance,” she said finally. “Not officially. I’m just a person trying to survive.” 

“Why didn’t you just kill him in his sleep?Or, in the bath?Or in some other such… vulnerable moment.Surely you had ample opportunity.”

“I thought about it.Many times. But he kept me safe and I was afraid to die. There would have been no clean way to get away and I would have been implicated no matter what. Killing him might be worth dying for, but I was afraid, and I thought I had a lot of time to muster up the courage to face my inevitable execution. However, recentlyI’ve had to speed up the process, and think of a method that could get me out of Cardassian space.”

“Why?”

“Because.It’s not just my life anymore.”

Something in her glare - a ferocious animalistic will to live and protect - told me everything.“I see.So. all this so you can make a clean getaway.And the man who ripped your earring out?I suppose you hired him.Truly commendable commitment to your cause.”

She smiled, the tears threatening to fall again, "Entirely unrelated to the whole thing,” she lilted, “See?A plot on my life was perfectly plausible. You know the best lies always have a shred of truth to them? I'm a very good liar, Odo.Positively Cardassian in that respect.Even my smile is a lie.When I smile I look like I feel something, don't I?" She smiled the warm smile that reached deep into her eyes.“Skrain sometimes says that he's sure I have scales underneath my skin." Her smile froze.It was like she had been wearing a porcelain mask all this time and it finally cracked cleanly in the middle and slid off to reveal her true face.She couldn’t pretend not to cry, and it suddenly became more effort than it was worth to continue to hate her. I offered her a handkerchief.She took it and laughed through her tears.

“We’re all prisoners here on Terok Nor.And we all have to act like we’re here because we want to be.Or deserve to be.  

There’s no escaping now.I’ll start to show soon. He’ll be thrilled, of course, even though this is the worst indiscretion a Cardassian of his rank can make.Mistresses and lovers are not uncommon in Cardassian culture, but tradition would dictate that he prevent an adulterous child’s birth at any cost.However, he likes to go to sleep at night believing himself an honorable man, so rather than kill me, he’ll hide me away somewhere on Bajor, where there will be little hope for escape.He’ll visit occasionally, and love the child, and when the resistance succeeds and the occupation ends, he’ll kill us both.But he’ll _cry_ as he does so, and the whole experience will serve only to make himself a more poignant and sensitive figure in his own imagination.”

I wished I could offer her some word of comfort.I wished I could tell her she was wrong and that everything was going to be all right.But, despite her lies, I couldn’t stand lying to her now.

I wished that her plan had succeeded.I wish she’d gotten me out of the way more effectively.I wished the resistance would fail and she and her child could live out their lives on Bajor quietly benefitting from the deaths of millions.But I couldn’t change the course of history.

So I sat there, stupidly, as she collected herself, dried her eyes, straightened her dress, and took back her “stolen” bracelet.“Thank you for keeping this safe for me, Odo’ital.It’ll be important now.”

Just as she reached the door I managed to speak “Naprem. Why didn’t you just tell me from the start?Why didn’t you trust me with this?”

She smiled. “You’re too trustworthy, Odo.So I knew I couldn’t trust you.” And she left.

 

She would go on to present the bracelet I’d kept safe for her to Dukat.Told him it was a Bajoran pledge bracelet, and that she would wear it from now on as a symbol of her devotion to him.She wore the bracelet until the day she died, and smiled softly through it all.

 

How sad for a place to be as hated as Terok Nor.Naprem was right.No one wanted to be here.Not the ore workers who toiled and went hungry to an early grave.Not the Cardassians who convinced themselves of the sub-humanity of their charges, and the soldiers who couldn’t wait for all this to end so they could finally claim Bajor as their rightful home.Not Quark, who earned only a meager profit despite his cunning, and Garak who skewered his humiliation with a skilled needle and a pointed smile.

Certainly not me.

And certainly not Naprem, who now wore a beautiful Bajoran bracelet as a shackle to a man she hated.

I thought of her final words to me and knew she was right not to trust me.My impartial commitment to justice would never let me stand by as a man was murdered.No matter how justified.No matter how much suffering would be alleviated. But it was also an unexpected test of my convictions to let her walk out of my office. I could never go back to blind impartiality again. I and the very landscape of Terok nor had been changed. Changed at her dear expense.

 

THE END.

 

—————

 

Odo set down the PADD and sighed.  

 

He was glad to finally make it to the end.It was a clumsy story but Jake had captured something of that place. He’d hated revisiting Terok Nor, but dammit he’d wanted to see how the mystery ended.

He swiveled his chair around and watched the green strips of lights flicker with almost imperceptible speed.He tried to get himself to get backto work but the little strips of lights were too hypnotic to bother with anything else. _Quark_ was expecting an update on a purported theft, and was threatening to take matters into his own hands if Odo didn’t step up.But Odo didn’t feel like thinking too hard, and anyway, the theft was probably fabricated or at most a dramatization of an outstanding bill.So he continued to look at the lights and pointedly not think about what he’d done when the station had been called Terok Nor.

The door to his office opened.Odo continued to stare at the lights, in no mood to deal with Quark, “If you pester me, you’ll just get in the way.” he said,“Please just wait for me to do my job and don’t do anything rash.In fact, don’t do anything at all.”

“But I have so much to do.”

The feminine voice caught Odo by surprise.He whirled his chair back around and stood, “Ziyal! I thought you were -”

The girl tried not to laugh, “It’s alright.”

“Right.” Odo didn’t know quite what to do with his hands. “How may I be of assistance to you, Ziyal?”

“I don’t know.I thought we’d just talk for a moment. If this is a good time?”

“Talk?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Odo waited for her to start, “And what would you like to talk about.”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.Well.Then in thatcase -“

“Actually…”

Again Odo waited.Again Ziyal said nothing. “Actually…?” he prompted.

“Actually, I just finished reading a story that Garak gave me -”

“Oh dear.”

“ - And I thought it might be good to discuss it with you.”

“What kind of story?”

“Actually it was -” Ziyal looked away from Odo, “It was Jake’s story.About you?On Terok Nor?”

Odo sighed. “And where did Mr. Garak procure a copy of this little gem of a story?” As soon as he asked the question he knew the answer and he and Ziyal spoke simultaneously:

“Doctor Bashir.”

Odo shook his head, “Of course he did.”

“I think Doctor Bashir got the story from Lieutenant Dax.I don’t know.But Garak got the story from him, and gave it to me."

"Ah.Did he?”Leaving unspoken that this was a cruel thing to do.

"I think he thought it was funny,”

"I'm sure he did"

Ziyal bit her lip and looked at the ground. "I didn't like it,” she said. “I don't think I really understand this ‘noir’ thing."

"To be fair, I don't think Jake Sisko does, either.” Odo said lightly.

“He’s a good writer though.” she said quickly,“Or.He will be.I think it’s important to encourage people to keep doing what they love.”

Odo smiled at the unexpectedly sweet sentiment. “You know, Ziyal, I don’t think we’ve ever spoken without Major Kira present.”

Ziyal smiled too and nodded, “After reading the story I just wanted to see if - I wanted to talk to the _other_ star of the story.”

“Ah.”

“I thought, ‘well it sounds a bit like Odo, but how accurate is it really?’ And I realized I didn’t know because we’ve never really talked.”

“I see.”

“And when Garak gave me the story he said ‘this young man has captured my voice perfectly - he’s got me exactly right!’He was laughing about it. He found it very charming. I was just wondering if there was… anything else Jake might have gotten right.Even if by accident.”

“No, no.There’s nothing true to it at all.Jake simply used real people as a writing exercise.No one was even supposed to see it. I wasn’t on the station back then.I was still in storage.They didn’t even know that I was sentient in 2353.Garak wasn’t in exile yet, and Quark certainly wasn’t here… It’s just a story, I’m afraid.”

Ziyal smiled apologetically and shook her head, “Of course the story is made up.Of course.But… that’s not what I’m asking.”

“I know,” Odo sighed. “I’m so sorry the story found its way to you.It must have been very —“

“So?” Ziyal cut him off sharply, “Did you know her?”

“Your mother?Tora Naprem?”

“Did you?Was she… like the story?”

Odo leaned his elbows on the desk and pursed his lips.“I wouldn’t say I _knew_ her.I met her… a few times.She was certainly beautiful - but you knew that - and Jake’s physical description, at least, is very accurate.Soft features, light eyes.All that.”

Ziyal shook her head.This wasn’t what she was angling to hear, “But did you get the impression that she was happy?”

Odo couldn’t meet her eyes, “I really can’t say”

“Odo, please. Did she seem happy to you?”

“You misunderstand.I really can’t say because I really don’t know.She was an intelligent woman.And beyond a doubt a survivor.As such she only showed people what she wanted them to see.Dukat, a lowly security officer, _anyone_.She’d show them what they needed to see.Do you understand?”

“Yes. I only knew her in my childhood.” She traced an embroidered pattern in her skirt, “Fourteen is maybe just old enough to see the world as it really is, but I was sheltered, and she only ever smiled.But the more I think of it - of her circumstances –” Her fingers found a loose thread in the design, and she absently picked at it, “The more I learn about my father, and Bajor, and how she must have grown up, and how she must have viewed him - all of them… The more I think about it all, the more I put my own loving memories of them together into context.I just feel so…I feel like I’ve been… I didn’t even know her.I don’t even know if she loved… if she even wanted… or if she just felt trapped with me.” She pulled on the thread, hard.“The more I think like this the more I wonder if there was truth to Jake’s story after all.” *pop* The thread broke out of its design.She frayed it between her thumb and forefinger, “Maybe she did feel trapped.My father always said he loved her.But maybe he’s just…”

She looked up again, sharply, an indiscernible expression burning in her eyes “Do you think she really loved my father?”

“I don’t know.”

Ziyal’s face darkened, the indiscernible expression she’d had before faded away.She nodded, looked down at the thread, and took a deep, cleansing breath.She stood abruptly and looked Odo straight on, “well,” she said, with a smile that warmed deep into her eyes, “I guess I’ll never know now.”

“No.” Odo said, “I suppose we never will.”

 


End file.
